


And Douglas Makes Three

by MsCashew



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Arthur loves babies!, Baby Skip, Daddy Martin, Douglas loves Martin, Especially baby skip, Fluff, Fluff be sprinkled here and there, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Martin is an unexpected father, More tags at a later date, Rating May Change for a Much Later Chapter, Slightly Jealous Douglas, marlas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-02-13 06:39:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2140884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MsCashew/pseuds/MsCashew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What's this? Martin Crieff is suddenly a father of a four month old?! </p><p>How does the crew at MJN take it? How does Martin handle sudden parenthood? And why is Douglas acting so out of sorts?! </p><p><i>Prompt from the CP Meme, link to said prompt in the notes.</i> :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hey Chief. . .

**Author's Note:**

> Hullo, m'dears! So, I started writing this nearly a year ago and finally updated over at the CP meme (which by the way, is over here ((I don't know how to do a fancy clicky one D: )): http://cabinpres-fic.dreamwidth.org/6625.html?thread=12792033#cmt12792033). I thought that I'd start posting it over here as well, as I believe it will get me writing more and a bit more out of my writer's block. So, expect at least an update every couple weeks (If it's longer, yell at me. It's the only way I'll learn. O.O)
> 
> But yes. :D Not beta'd nor Brit-picked, so anything out of sorts is completely my fault. Yell at me if you see something off (why do I keep telling you to yell at me? _*snorts*_ ).
> 
> So, without further ado, let's get this started. :D ❤

"You aren't going to let me put you down, are you?" He murmurs to the sleeping baby he held gently, she slightly burrowing into the crook of his arm with a small grunt as if she were answering back with a definite 'no',  
  
"Stubborn." He murmurs further, with no real annoyance to his tone. He was just happy that his child was sleeping soundly after a night of colossal fussiness.  
  
And again, it hits him so very hard as he's thinking about her: He has a child.  **Him**. Martin Crieff! A  _child_!  **Of his very own**! The thought makes him momentarily dizzy, as it had a few times in the past week and a half he had known her, had been given  _custody_  of her. He lets a sigh escape, rocking lazily in his slightly squeaky chair. It had been such a bizarre time away from the airfield, he felt as if he were in a dream. . . Or maybe he was in a coma. Perhaps Carolyn finally throttled both him and Douglas for all the ' _emergency_ ' landings and whatnot. . . Though, the constant pinches he gave himself proved otherwise, one being apparent as it had left the smallest of bruises on his arm.  
  
How in the world was he going to explain this? How was he going to explain her? This, this little creature that lay snoozing soundly in the crook of his arm in her fuzzy little jumper, footie onesie, - thing?! As he was finishing up paperwork, of all things to be doing! Oh God, he should be thinking of so many ways that he could say why there was a baby here and with him! But for the love of him, he just couldn't think straight.  
  
With another sigh, he leans back in his squeaky chair, tapping the pen that he held against his lips lightly as he looked down at the little baby that lay asleep in his arm. He couldn't help the smile that came to his lips as he admires her adorable round little face, and her button nose, that little cupid's bow. . .  
  
With another sigh, he slumps slightly in his chair, rocking lightly as she curls further into him, her face disappearing more into her little hood, a little sigh of content escaping her as she settles.  
  
In the fortnight they all had been away while GERT-I had much needed repairs and mandatory updates done; he never expected, never even _dreamed_  he'd end up with a baby. He explained the situation fairly well to his family (his mum perfectly ecstatic to have another grandbaby to spoil). Now,  **now** , how was he going to explain this to his colleagues? His, dare he think it,  _friends_  of MJN? Especially to Carolyn. She was most likely not going to be very happy at the prospect of having a baby around for the next couple days on standby (especially when they had a clear storm warning when she learned of having to get repairs done on GERT-I, or else face consequence). She'll most likely take the knives out on him. . . The rusty ones. Martin gulps at the idea (even if he had never actually seen knives, the idea always remained a strong one), clutching the babe to him a tad more tighter.  
  
With one last sigh and still no idea coming to mind; he goes back to doing the paperwork, the weight clutched in his arm a nice reminder to stay calm, to stay grounded, even if for just the moment.  
  
Though, it really was helping when not terribly long after that, in comes Douglas, letting in a blast of the cold March weather, Martin feeling the tiniest shiver from the baby at such a sudden gust.  
  
"Well, it comes as no surprise that sir is here bright and early, as always," his copilot begins, paying no mind to Martin as he takes off his scarf and coat, hanging them up on the portacabin's coat stand, he taking a quick look toward Carolyn's office afterward, "Good Lord, am I here before Carolyn and Arthur? What a depressing thought. I could have slept another twenty minutes on this chilly morn-" he quickly stops his words as he finally faces Martin, the captain seeing his eyes trail down to the little pink lump of a baby in his arms, Martin waiting with bated breath of what Douglas was going to say.  
  
To Martin's surprise, it took a few moments to hear those words.  
  
"Hey Chief," Douglas says carefully, Martin watching his eyes study the warm bundle in his arms, "I might be wrong, but there seems to be a baby enfolded upon your bosom. This makes me feel. . . slightly awkward and befuddled. Maybe we can decrease my confusion and have you explain why you are holding a baby, as surely such a little bundle of joy couldn't possibly belong. . .  _Oh_."  
  
'Oh' was right as Martin slipped the hood covering her little head away in a gentle swipe to reveal a shocking layer of ginger curls on the little head of the tiny sleeping form cradled in the crook of his arm.  
  
Before Douglas, or Martin for that fact, say another word, however; in walks Arthur, of course having the perfect timing as always.  
  
"Morning, chaps! I -" he stops in his tracks, much like Douglas had just done. Though instead of staring for a moment in shock as Douglas had, he pointed toward Martin right away, his answer coming out as:  
  
"Baby!  **Brilliant**!" His answer was an Arthur sort of answer, but which was also loud, so Martin just had to put a finger to his lips, being loud himself without meaning to as he lets out an excited 'shhhhhhh!' to quiet Arthur, making the steward jump slightly as he slaps his hands on his mouth, the baby in his arms squirming lightly in her sleep from the sudden outburst.  
  
"Yes, Arthur. It's -,  **s-she**  is a baby. M-My baby, in fact." It still felt so terribly odd saying that,  _my baby_. Granted, he quite liked that it was  _his baby_ , but still. . . Would he ever get used to it?  
  
"Wow," Arthur answers more softly, an awestruck shine coming to his eyes as he shuffles closer, looking at the snoozing babe, Martin noticing out of the corner of his eye Douglas' own widening slightly, "Does she have a name? Babies need names so they know that you're talking to them. And of course so you can coo at them, and sing to them, and play with them and everything." he babbles a bit, his smile never wavering as his eyes keep studying the baby.  
  
"Well of course she has a name!" he whispers as loud as he dares, seeing her little brow crease at his voice, "Her name is Grace. Grace Penelope Crieff."   
  
"So, she has the Crieff name then, hmm?" Douglas asks, his eyes narrowing as he asks.  
  
"Y-Yes...?" Martin answers in an unsure tone, not understanding what exactly Douglas was getting at.  
  
"Why keep her a secret for so long?" There was something in Douglas' voice that Martin couldn't quite pinpoint.  
  
"What?"  
  
"I just thought you would have shared your happy blessing with your colleagues, your confidants,  _friends_." Oh. . .  _Oh_. Did he think. . . Did he think that he planned to have a baby and not tell anyone? Was that it?  
  
"I-It's not like that! I didn't know about her until -"  
  
"Can I hold her?" Arthur interrupts their words that were beginning to heat, Martin surprisingly finding that Arthur had crept up quite close and was stroking her cheek with his finger in the gentlest way.  
  
"Well, um, h-have you held a baby before?" he hears himself ask, his arm holding the baby tightening the slightest bit.  
  
"Oh yeah, loads! I'm brilliant with babies! My friend Mitzi has had three babies so far, and I've held each one. I've even watched them a few times."  
  
Martin looks back from Grace to Arthur, and back again. Arthur  _was_  good with children. He knew that from the children that had flown on GERT-I, and knew it further from the one time that he helped that mother in Austria calm her grumpy toddler. . .  
  
"Alright, but why not wait until she's awake? I don't want her waking to someone she doesn't know."  
  
"Brilliant!" he cries a bit louder than he should again, again slapping his hands on his mouth, his eyes going wide when Martin gives him a look as Grace squirms the smallest bit.  
  
Hands still on his mouth, Arthur shuffles backward toward the portacabin's couch, flopping down on the worn cushions (a squeak of 'Sorry!' sounding from behind his hands as he lands). Douglas meanwhile sits down at his own desk, a thoughtful look drawn on his face as the room goes quiet, nothing but Grace's sleeping snuffles filling the air.


	2. Baby Skippers Are Just Silly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The questioning begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I have three chapters written so far and thought that I would share the three chapters before heading off for the North tomorrow for cabin time, as I'm going to be gone for a week (No laptop do I own, just a smart phone :) ).
> 
> I'm going to try and get chapter three up tomorrow. I'm warning you right now though, knowing me, I'll be packing until last minute. So in case that the third chapter doesn't go up tomorrow; I just ran out of time and you'll know. :) And I want them a little bit spaced (they will be after these three, I know), and I want to edit just a smidgen bit, even if it's not much. :)
> 
> But yes. Here be chapter two, m'dears. ❤

A few long moments pass before the quiet is cut short with a soft voice.  
  
"Coffee?" Arthur asks quietly, his hands lowering slowly, looking the slightest bit unsure.  
  
"That would be wonderful, Arthur." Martin breathes out, giving the steward a small smile, Arthur returning it fully.  
  
"Right-o!" He answers back, hopping up from the couch, wandering on over to the coffee station (which really only consisted of a normal coffee pot, hot plate with kettle, their worn mugs, and powdered cream and sugar to accompany it all while everything sat on an old card table), "Douglas, anything for you?"  
  
"Usual for me, Arthur," He says, eyes peeking over at Grace in a bit of a nonchalant manner, he looking back over at Arthur straight away, "By the by; where's Carolyn? She's usually first here. . . Well, that is to say on the rare occasion  _daddy Crieff_  shows up before her." Martin just scowls at him, not thinking of anything better to do.  
  
"I know! She's usually up before me, and I expected it this morning too, especially since she went to bed last night  _really_  early," he babbles on a bit with his back toward them, the sound of the coffee streaming into the pot a nice little soundtrack to his story, "So I went to her part of the house to wake her, and I sorta found Herc there as well, much to my surprise!" He says happily enough, his back stiffening in a clear jolt, "Oh," He looks over his shoulder at them, Martin feeling his face scrunch in disgust at the image Arthur has planted there, Douglas looking to be in the same predicament, "I wasn't supposed to mention that. . . Whoops."  
  
"No worries, Arthur. We won't mention it if you don't. Actually I add this, please  **never**  mention it again. Ever." Douglas says with a small shudder, Arthur giving him a nod that he understood, going back to the job of making the coffee.   
  
"Anyway," He goes on, mixing in Martin's cream and sugar, "She got a bit shouty at me, as she usually does when I see Herc about her room - ,"  
  
"Oh good God." Douglas murmurs, wiping his hand down his face.  
  
" - and told me to go on without her and that she'd be along a little later this morning."  
  
"Well, that's one mystery solved for the day, two if you count why I have completely lost my appetite for the rest of the day after Arthur's tale,"  
  
"Now, the grand enigma that plagues us all is this," He slowly turns his chair towards Martin, the captain gulping at the scrutinizing eyes that soon fell upon him, "Why did one Martin Crieff not tell us of his blessing?"  
  
"Blessing?" Arthur asks as he sets Douglas' coffee down on his desk.  
  
"The baby, Arthur." the first officer all but sighs out, giving the steward a withering stare.  
  
"Oh, right," He now sets Martin's coffee down, his face morphing into ' _serious Arthur_ ' mode, "Why not tell us of little Gracie? We could have celebrated! With balloons, and a nice party of a baby shower. . . I could have made a cake!" He says in an excited whisper, being as loud as he dared.  
  
Looking between the two of them, Martin begins biting his bottom lip, not being able to help the nervous quirk he had had since he could remember.  
  
"Well, I. . . It's, um, well, it's a-a long story. . ." he stutters  
  
"Out with it, Martin." Douglas says, sounding slightly impatient.  
  
"We could have had streamers!" Arthur throws in.  
  
"We're just curious." Douglas seems to say a tad more gently, sort of surprising Martin.  
  
"And funny little paper hats!"  
  
"I didn't even know about her until last week, for God's sake!" He bursts out after their barrage, their eyes becoming slightly wide at his outburst.  
  
But with Martin's sudden shout, he feels Grace start to squirm terribly, little whimpers sounding from her, those soon turning into full blown crying signalling that she was awake.  
  
"Oh Grace, I'm so sorry. . . Shh, it's alright, it's fine," He murmurs, rocking her gently, running his free hand through her ginger curls as he stands, finding it had calmed her down far quicker in the short time he had had her, "It's fine, dear, it's fine. I'm here, I'm right here, shh. . ."   
  
It takes a couple minutes to quiet down the suddenly awake Grace, her cries going back to whimpers, those whimpers soon turning into small sniffles as she looks up at Martin with shining honey brown eyes.  
  
"See? All better! No need for tears. Save those for something important." He murmurs gently, giving her forehead a light peck.  
  
"For instance,  _smoke_." Douglas jabs with a smirk.  
  
"Douglas!" Is all Martin can do as he lightly bounces Grace as she kept a watchful eye on him.  
  
"Since she's awake," Arthur cuts in, Douglas still watching with a grin, "Now can I hold little Gracie?" he says all the while with his usual smile, rocking lightly on the balls of his feet.  
  
"Well, um, yes, of-of course. Just let me -" He feels his face flush as he shifts her to his shoulder, patting her bottom to check if she was wet,  
  
"You don't feel damp, so we'll wait until your nine AM bottle as usual, shall we?"  
  
"Nine AM bottle  _and_  changing? Even if her nappy isn't wet?" Douglas says, eyebrow cocked dangerously high.  
  
"Well of course. My baby manual -"  
  
"Baby manual?" His co-pilot says, that grin returning in full force.  
  
"Book! I meant  **book**!" He corrects, cheeks heating up once again, "The book says to keep a schedule. So, I-I'm keeping one."   
  
"I see, and has your schedule from your  _manual_  been kept to a tee?"  
  
"Well. . . Yes," Martin starts, feeling his face warm in warning again that it'll flush to it's hottest degree, feeling Grace start to paw and pull at his tie as he stares at Douglas' stupid smirk, "Yes and, and no. Of course a schedule for changing can't follow  _exactly_  as planned, I knew that much. . . And of course feeding. I do give her a bottle at certain times, but then of course she'll want one when she feels hungry, a-and sometimes doesn't finish it all when a scheduled feeding comes up. . ." He can't finish his thought as he feels his face has heated far beyond saving point, Douglas' smirk wider than ever.  
  
"Did you still want to hold her, Arthur?" He mutters, looking down at Grace to avert his gaze, finding that she had the edge of his tie in her mouth. He gently pries the blue material away from her, a little grunt of annoyance coming out loud and clear when he did.  
  
"Yes please." He says, plopping down onto the well used sofa, looking up with an expectant look as Martin made the short distance toward him, sitting down with caution in order to not jostle Grace too terribly much.  
  
After a moment of giving Arthur instructions of how to place his hands when Martin hands over Grace, including using one of his own hands to move Arthur's in a certain place; he transfers her over with care, taking his hands slowly away to make sure everything goes smoothly. He soon lets out a slow sigh, seeing that everything was going according to his plan. . .  
  
It's short lived, however, as he hisses when he fully hands her off and Arthur's hands aren't in the exact position he placed them in.  
  
"Just, just put your hand like that," He makes to move Arthur's hands where they should be, doing no more than a soft palm upon the back of his hands so as to not startle the little one too much, "Yes, a-and this one -, yes! There! Alright!" Grace just stares at him, her eyes wide in making Martin believe she was looking on him as if he were completely daft.  
  
"I know she's your baby and all, Skip, but like I said, I have handled them before. Just born ones too! And they were tiny!"  
  
"I-I know, Arthur, so you've stated. I just. . ." He thinks a moment, searching for a word that would fit his feeling.  
  
"Worry," He says before Martin can think of the word, he adjusting Grace in his arms without so much as a fuss, "It's what good dad's do, don't they? Worry." He says, a bit of a crinkle coming to his nose in thought after he says it.   
  
"Well, I don't know about -"  
  
"Aw, she's brilliant, Skip!" he interrupts, watching Grace with the biggest grin as he coos at her, Martin swelling a bit with pride at Arthur's words, "What a fantastic little Skipper you are." He boops her nose as he says this, the tiniest of smiles lighting up her round little face.  
  
"Well, she's not, not a captain, so -"  
  
"Oh for the love of..." Douglas interrupts, pinching the bridge of his nose in a look of pure exasperation, Martin feeling his face flush hotly for the third time that day.   
  
"No, of course she's not a  _real_  Skipper, Skip! Babies being captains is just silly," Arthur says, all the while looking at Grace with a smile, she happily grabbing at his fingers as he twiddled them about in front of her, "But she's little Skipper, isn't she? She looks just like you."  
  
"She does have a striking resemblance to Sir, I must admit." Martin jumps at hearing Douglas' words coming from his other side, surprised at finding his first officer perched on the arm of the sofa, looking over his shoulder to the baby in Arthur's arms.  
  
"Y-You think so?"   
  
"I dare say, she's the spitting image," Douglas goes on (the comment making Martin smile), his head tilting slightly at watching Grace in Arthur's arms, "Though, she doesn't seem to have your striking eye colour."  
  
"I noticed," He murmurs, it taking a second for what Douglas had said to sink in, he whipping his head toward his first officer, "What?"  
  
Before Martin can make sense of what just happened however; the portacabin door opens, letting in the cold March air as Carolyn steps in, a look about her face saying that she was not in the mood for any sort of their usual antics.  
  
"Gentlemen, I assume you're working diligently in my brief absence. And by 'working' and 'gentlemen', I mean Martin and Arthur, as I know Douglas most likely hasn't lifted a finger except for the daily crossword." She goes on as she hangs her coat and scarf.  
  
"Yes. Yes they are," Douglas starts, raising an eyebrow as he says with a vengeful smile whilst crossing his arms in defiance, "How's  _Herc_?"  
  
"Arthur -," She starts, turning to face him in a swift move.  
  
"Sorry, mum." He says, looking ready for a comeback from Carolyn. Though, unsurprisingly, her eyes are drawn to what Arthur is currently cradling instead of focusing on his slip up.  
  
God, what a sight the three of them with a baby must be to her.  
  
"Dear Lord, Arthur, why is there a baby in your arms?"  
  
"She's Skip's, mum." He answers matter of factly while Grace holds his fingers tightly, studying them with rapt attention, "Isn't she brilliant?"  
  
". . .Martin has a baby?" She answers after a moment of studying the child in her son's arms.  
  
"Y-Yes, Carolyn. I. . . have a baby." He answers slowly, swallowing thickly as he waited for her reaction.  
  
"Why do you have a baby, exactly?"  
  
"Well, well, I. . . Well, um, you see. . ." He tries to answer, getting more and more flustered with the way she was staring at him with that gaze of absolute scrutiny.  
  
"Right. You may tell me later if you so wish. More importantly,  _why_  is the baby here?" That, he could most likely answer.  
  
"I, er, my mum has been watching her when I've had a van job, and Caitlin's watched her a couple times as well. But they couldn't and can't for the next few days, and I told them that it was important as it was the first day back! And I understand, of course I do... So, I-I had no choice! It is only stand by, and if we do get the call, Caitlin said she would claim sick and come and get her. That's the best I could do. I'm sorry, Carolyn, b-but, I. . . I couldn't really hire anyone, not, not with. . ."  
  
"Yes, fine. Alright. As long as it's just standby, then it's alright," She interrupts, saving him from saying what they knew, "This doesn't mean I'm running a day care, though, all responsibility for  _your_  child is all on  _you_. I will not be responsible for any changing, feeding, fussing, nap time, not anything of the sort. Is that clear?"  
  
"Very much so. Thank you, Carolyn."  
  
"Good," She takes the few quick steps toward her office, she stopping before entering as she looks back on the three of them, "What's her name?" Her voice comes out in her business like tone, catching Martin off guard very momentarily.  
  
"What?" She sighs in her 'what sort of idiot are you today' way.  
  
"Her name. Your baby's name."  
  
"Oh. Grace. Um, Grace Penelope Crieff."  
  
". . . Sounds like a lovely name. . . Congratulations, Martin." She lastly says before stepping in the small space, leaving Martin slightly surprised with a twitch of a smile at the corner of his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there was chapter two, hooray! :D I always imagine Arthur being exceptionally good with babies and children. . . He's Arthur, he has to be. >u> . . . Well, besides Maxi and Kieran, I s'pose. . . they don't count though, they go in the teenage category. ;)
> 
> So there we be. Hopefully, chapter three will get up tomorrow.
> 
> Once again, not beta'd nor Brit-picked. So any mistakes are all on me. Let me know if you notice anything amiss. :)
> 
> Until next time.
> 
> Hearts,
> 
> Carla ❤❤❤


	3. Let Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Martin's surprised at the attentions of a certain co-pilot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. . . I ran out of time before heading off a week ago. Sorry, m'dears. :) But I hope this chapter makes up for it. :D
> 
> Enjoy. :) ❤

The next few days went by rather nicely.  
  
Arthur would help with Gracie as much as he could (well, as much as Martin would let him, the captain still slightly wary of his enthusiastic friend). Holding her when she was fussy when Martin was filling some form out, rocking her when she started to doze, telling her stories of their travels (making a couple a bit more child friendly), "I know you don't understand these now, but when you do, you'll find them brilliant!" He would say as the little babe looked to be listening so intently, yet not understanding a word.  
  
Then surprisingly after their third day; the ground crew would wave a little wave to her and give her a smile if they saw Martin walking to the porta cabin.   
Surprising him further, Karl and Carl had taken quite the shine to her after meeting her in the nearly a canteen the little airport had. The couple times Martin had gone to get a little bit of a stronger coffee than they had (taking Gracie with him, he didn't think she should be in the same place all day), they would sit with them, cooing over Grace, saying she was the most adorable baby they had seen (Karl saying apart from his nephews and niece, anyway).  
  
And despite Carolyn's words of wanting nothing much to do with the care of Grace, well, she seemed to hold her the most out of his coworkers. That is, right after a changing, or when she'd been burped, or when Martin would come back in after walking her around for a teeny bit. She would be right there, an excuse every time, "No, you shouldn't hold her like that, let me show you," "No, she shouldn't be swaddled so loosely, here, let me." And many things along those lines. Martin had the sneaking suspicion that Carolyn liked her quite a bit more than she let on. He was sure he once heard her murmur something about 'Gran' when she had Gracie in her small office, but of course, he wouldn't say anything to her about it. He was glad that Carolyn had made a spot for her in her heart, looking as if she considered her a grand baby. That was more than fine with Martin, she having both a Nan and now a Gran.   
  
Yep, little Gracie seemed to be quite the charmer. . . Which must absolutely come from her mother. Martin was rather charmed with her himself for the short amount of time they were together.  
  
The only person that didn't pay her any mind was Douglas, which sorta surprised Martin. He thought that maybe Douglas would take the most to her. Especially after seeing such joy in his face in an older picture he had shown to Martin at one point of him and his daughters. . . Though, his co-pilot didn't seem all that thrilled when Martin first came in with her. Maybe. . . Maybe he just had that sorta connection with his own and no one else's.  
  
Either way, Martin couldn't quite figure out why that bothered him as much as it did.  
  
* * * * *  
  
It was the eighth day of stand by. It was quiet in their little porta cabin, Arthur and Carolyn off on an errand for their client they would be flying in a few days time.  
  
Douglas was hard at work as ever (trying to read his book  _without_  his glasses, always denying that he wore such things, which Martin has seen him wear on a few occasions, thank you very much), while Martin, God help him, was trying to get Grace to take her bottle.  
  
"Daddy Crieff," Martin hears Douglas says after a few futile attempts at feeding Grace. He just gives Douglas a sideways glare, not really seeing him, "Why in the world is baby Skipper making such a sour face?" Douglas asks, confusion and slight amusement sounding in his voice, Grace looking as if she had sucked on a lemon, her lips sealed shut to the bottle being offered.  
  
"I don't know! Probably nine times out of ten, she throws a bit of a fuss when I give her a bottle. Then she has this, this  _glare_  that she gives me for a good twenty minutes during and after feeding, which makes me feel she hates me."   
  
A few moments pass of Martin offering the bottle to Grace, with the same results, when he hears Douglas unexpectedly.  
  
"Here, let me." He hears him say softly, looking up to find his co-pilot holding his hands out across their joined desks.  
  
"You, you want to?"  
  
"Yes, I do."  
  
"You do?"  
  
"I really do."  
  
" _Really?!_ "  
  
"Martin," Douglas sighs after their tedious exchange, "Do you want my help that will absolutely work or do you want Grace to look at you like you're nothing but a berk?"  
  
Martin looks to Grace, over to Douglas, then back again, soon offering the small babe over to his friend across the small space.  
  
He gently scoops Gracie up in his large hands under her arms, lifts her up a bit high, and gives her an unexpected grand smile.  
  
"Hello, darling. Why are you being such a fussy eater, hmm?" He questions lightly, bringing her close into his arms as she gives him the smallest smile Martin had seen her give, a small soft coo accompanying it, the smile disappears rather quickly though and is replaced by a look of wide eyed skepticism once Douglas settles back into his chair.  
  
He talks to her sweetly for a spell, rocking her lightly as she gets a little more comfortable with him. Soon, Douglas reaches his hand out toward Martin, not stopping his chat with Grace, Martin assuming that he was asking for the bottle.   
  
Douglas smiles wider as he takes the bottle, still talking, settling her snugly into the crook of his arm. He was holding her a tad differently than Martin did though, is the only difference Martin noticed.  
  
"Bum, da-bum, bum, bum, bum," He moves the bottle toward her in a bouncy movement, a sing song tone to his words (not to mention, the quite affectionate smile he was giving her), it captivating her as he did so.  
  
But before the nipple reached her little bow lipped mouth; Douglas surprises her with a short, quick, raspberry to her cheek, shocking her for the briefest of moments before she erupts into giggles and babbling, she reaching for the bottle after her giggle fit.  
  
He starts his little dance with the bottle once more, his smile the tiniest bit wider while he sings along with it again, she watching as it comes closer and closer. . .  
  
He does it again, her little laugh so bright, Douglas chuckling softly right along with her as Martin sat there staring, slightly stunned at the sudden affection Douglas Richardson was showing his daughter.  
  
He starts his little hop with the bottle again, humming the little tune this time, Gracie watching it with such attention.  
This time, however, Douglas doesn't give her cheek a raspberry. Instead, he puts the nipple up to her mouth, she readily excepting the offered bottle and begins watching Douglas as she feeds.  
  
She drinks in content, eyes starting to droop as she starts to doze in Douglas' arm.  
  
"See? Nothing to it." Douglas says with a smile, rocking her in such a gentle motion.  
  
"So. . . She was bored?!" Martin exclaims, watching on as she freely drinks.  
  
"No, probably not. But I had to get her attention a little bit," Douglas now smirks, "It's because of how you hold her while she has her bottle."  
  
"How I hold her?" Martin repeats, feeling a bit jealous at the display of affection Gracie has on her little features toward Douglas as she drinks.  
  
"What, didn't your ' _manuals_ ' cover it?" He surprisingly almost sort of sneers at Martin, going back to Grace with an effortless smile, "The way you hold her, it's most likely giving her an upset tummy, which is why she makes such a face every time."  
  
Martin watches for a few moments, Douglas paying all his attention to the little babe in his arms, humming as he fed her, all the while with a small smile.  
  
"How?"  
  
"How what?" Douglas murmurs, his eyes still on Grace.  
  
"How are you so good at every little thing you do?! I just, I just want to be able to feed Gracie without her hating me and you, you just do so in an instant. Look how she looks at you now!"  
  
"Surprisingly," He starts after a moment, looking over to Martin, "This particular skill took a while to master."  
  
"It, it did?"  
  
"Yes. I had no clue what I was doing when Verity was born and still had a few kinks to work out a few years down the road when Hannah arrived. It takes practice and patience, Daddy Crieff," He smiles at the now lighthearted tease, the corner of Martin's lip twitching in an almost smile, "You'll get there soon enough. And with your stubbornness, even more sooner than that."  
  
"You . . . You really think so?"  
  
"I know so," He quietly says with a smile.  
  
"And you know," He's adds, a look of contemplation across his face, "It helps that you have a fellow father that's more than qualified."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"What are friends for?"  
  
"Well, um, t-thank you-, wait. . ." Martin cuts his own words off as he crosses his arms to Douglas, "What exact motives do you have?"  
  
"No motives whatsoever. But it's always terrific to have a colossal favor or two owed to this fantastic father." He cocks an eyebrow with a little grin, Martin not helping the smile come out when Douglas sets Gracie's bottle down and lifts her gently to his shoulder to burp her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I highly enjoy fatherly Douglas, what can I say? >u> ❤
> 
> You can't tell me there's only one Carl. There's Carl and Karl, I'm convinced. ;D
> 
> And just so you know, I do plan on doing chapters in Douglas' POV as well, a bit of what we've seen already and some other parts too. :) 
> 
> But yes. I do so hope you enjoyed and it was worth the wait. Until next time, m'honeys. ❤


	4. Dinner?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Douglas gets lost in his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. . . after a year, here's an update. . . Hooray?
> 
> I am so sorry. I just had such trouble with continuing this. D: I think I have an idea of how I want things to progress, so hopefully the next update won't take a year. ^.^;;;
> 
> With that, I hope you enjoy, my lovelies. :) 
> 
> ❤

It was quiet in the portacabin that morning. 

Carolyn was busy in her office, planning out the flight they would be taking in two days, the client that had had them on standby finally calling upon them and actually giving them their day of take off. 

Arthur had dozed off on the sofa while on his laptop. He said (with a great yawn) that he was catching up on a, a 'let's play', or something as such. He promptly fell asleep about twenty minutes in, his headphones going crooked on him.

And Martin, he was quietly rocking Grace as he filled out some paperwork.

Douglas himself was working as well. . . On reading a long overdue library book. But to be fair, he wasn't particularly paying it any mind. Most of his focus was wandering over to a captain and his baby.

Thought's swirled around in his mind as he watched the pair, the thought flashing in now and again since Martin had brought her to the portacabin with him the first time: 

How in the world could Martin have a baby?

Well, Douglas of course knew the mechanics of such things. More so than one should, really. He just wasn't even aware that Martin had someone, let alone long enough for them to be. . . _intimate_. The man was positively skittish in the presence of any aspect of the fairer sex. To be fair, skittish in the presence of most, really. And he had a certain look that not many seemed to find. . . appealing. 

That wasn't fair, though, he supposed. Martin certainly did have distinguishing looks. That bone structure alone, honestly. Who wouldn't find that just marvelous? And Martin did clean up rather nice when they went out and about on over night trips . . So much so, that Douglas noticed far too often. Far too often that it was beginning to become a distraction. It didn't help either that Martin was intelligent to a certain point. That he was funny and could certainly hold a good conversation of other subjects besides aviation when one got to know him. And Douglas did rather enjoy beating him at many of their games. . .

It most certainly didn't help that Douglas really rather much liked the little twerp. God in heaven, Douglas Richardson was smitten for Martin Crieff. Boob extraordinaire. 

It didn't take long for Douglas to figure out that his captain wasn't in a relationship. He had felt such a pang of almost. . .  _Betrayal_ when he thought so, though. It had caught him so off guard. He knew he was in far too deep then. He simply had to take a step back from Martin and his newly acquired baby and leave them be. . .

But then seeing Martin having trouble feeding Grace, well. . . He just couldn't help himself. He had to help Martin. He couldn't in all good consciousness let Grace have an upset tummy either, especially when he knew how he could fix it.

So being the man he was; he took Grace from a somewhat suspicious Martin and made it right.

And wouldn't you know it; he had been quite taken by Gracie from that point on.

Like father like daughter, he s'posed.

 ● ● ● ● ● ● ●

 

"Gentlemen, front and center." Carolyn orders, Arthur right away hopping up with a wide smile, Martin coming forth as authoritatively as he could with a baby on his shoulder.

Douglas took his time, sauntering over by Martin, Grace clenching her little fists at him when he got there, he not helping but smiling big for her, twiddling his fingers in greeting.

"You know it is the end of the work day?" Douglas states, "Time to go home and all?"

"Yes, I'm well aware, Douglas," she snaps, hands on hips in a way to say 'challenge me and see what happens', "Our client we are flying in two days time had some very specific requests, and as one whom would like to have repeat business; we shall be carrying them out to a tee!" She says, handing them papers, Douglas spotting that these were said requests.

"Wha-, wait! 'The client has formidable permission to enter the flight deck for a chat as he pleases'?! Carolyn, this is highly against regulations!"

"Ah, see, I thought you would say that," the alpha says, a particular shark like grin lining her features, "I may have had a slight problem with it myself, but, I seem to recall that having a baby at standby when a certain captain may have to fly a plane sooner rather than later could certainly very well be against regulations as well." She says, booping Grace's nose, the little babe smiling at her action.

"You don't have to bring it up every time I bring something up that  **is**  against regulations!"

"Turnabout is fair play, dear boy," She smirks, backing away, "Now, you all have your sheets. Study them and be prepared. Now, get out, go home, or where ever you please, I don't particularly care." And with that, she went to her office, Arthur following in her footsteps, waving to the two pilots with a cheer of, 'See you tomorrow!'.

So now, it was just Martin, Gracie, and Douglas himself. He gave a sideways glance to his captain as he started sliding on his coat, seeing that he was buckling up Gracie in her car seat.

"So, any plans tonight, sir? Take Grace out and paint the town red, perhaps?"

Martin smiles at this, pulling on his own jacket as he answers, "Yeah, going to go to a few discos and everything," he jokes, making the FO smile, "No, no. Just going to have a quiet night with Grace. She's been sleeping much better, and I don't want to especially disturb that now."

"Well I'm glad she's sleeping better." he answers, they walking out the door.

"I know. . . Oh! And, and thanks! I-I mean, they way you showed me to swaddle her, it. . . It really helped."

"You're most welcome, captain," The way Martin was doing it was good, but Douglas knew a bit of a better way. Martin had witnessed her snoozing within minutes and thanked Douglas like he was a deity,

"Well, until tomorrow, mon capitaine."

"Night Douglas." Martin says, hopping in his van after strapping the car seat in.

He was just about to slide into his Lexus. That was before he heard Martin's van beside him start to croak and crackle like a witch on her deathbed.

So instead he made his way to the big old van, rapping his knuckles lightly on the passenger side window. Martin leans over, hurriedly rolling it down.

"Van won't start?" Douglas says as he leans into the old vehicle, worried a bit for both Gracie and Martin.

"Yeah. It's the battery. I was just hoping it'd last until the weekend! The Fitton garage found a battery for me and said it'd be in by Saturday. . ."

"Think it'll get going with a jump start?" Douglas offers, Martin's eyes shining with gratefulness at his words.

"Yes! Thank you, Douglas!"

"Well, I didn't say I had my jumper cables on me," Martin literally sags at this news, "But I have them at my place. Tell you what; how about I take the pair of you to my place for a quick bite and we can come back here afterward with cables in hand, hmm?"

"Um, I-I need to get Grace home for her bottle - ,"

"Don't you have extra bottles and formula with?"

"Yes, well -"

"Nappies?" Douglas interrupts again.

"Yes, but -"

"Then come on, let me make you dinner. I have chicken that needs to be used up before we fly to New York in a couple days." Which was a bit of a lie. He had bought the chicken in mind of inviting Martin over for both companionship and possibly to ask a few questions about Gracie. He just hadn't known how to ask his captain.

"You, you want to make me dinner?"

"Yes. I'm sure it's still very different to have a baby so suddenly and if that chicken doesn't get used; it'll just go to waste. So let me cook for you. Come along, Martin," He watches as there seems to be an internal struggle within the younger man, his freckled face showing a roller coaster of emotions in just a few short moments,

"You know, I have a cheesecake in the fridge as well." He adds, smirking at the smile he's earned from Martin at his words, seeing the slightest nod from his captain.

"A-Alright. Thank you." He jumps out of the van, making his way to take Gracie out along with her car seat of course, Douglas beating him to it though.

"No, no, this is my night. Meaning I get to hold onto this lovely lady. Isn't that right, Gracie?" She answers in a gurgle, a toothless smile emerging forth just for Douglas. Well, he did have that charm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that was that chapter. :D ❤
> 
> Hope it was worth the wait of a over a year. ^u^;
> 
> So. . . Do you call your auto places 'garages'? I'm worried about that line. . .
> 
> Also, if you wanna come say howdy, see my art (see some Marlas arts ;D), then feel free to stop by my tumblr: a-drab-lunacy.tumblr.com
> 
> ❤


	5. Friends?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Douglas is surprised at Martin's view. . .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. . . It wasn't a whole year wait, anyway. >u>;;;
> 
> Anyhoo, please do enjoy! There will be another part to this chapter sooner rather than later. :)

The ride to Douglas' flat was uneventful, yet peaceful, the radio softly playing the local jazz station as they had rode along in comfortable silence.

Now they were making their way through Douglas' doorway, the FO carrying Gracie along in her car seat as she snoozed away.

"Make yourself at home." Douglas says, he flipping on the front hallway light as they entered his flat.

"Thank you." Martin murmurs, Douglas noting the very slight pink flush on his captain's cheeks as he quickly takes off his coat, fumbling with setting it on one of the coat hooks. 

Douglas makes his way toward his kitchen, setting a sleeping Grace on the kitchen table, seeing Martin not too far behind.

"You know, by saying 'make yourself at home', I did mean you could make yourself comfortable. As in, take a rest on the sofa, see what's on the tube, that sort of thing."

"I-I know," Martin says, his cheeks flushing a titch deeper, "Just, Grace may wake up soon, since she usually does when we get home when, when she falls asleep in the van." Martin rambles, picking at the sleeve of his pilots jacket.

"Understandable," Douglas concedes as he slips off his coat and then his pilot's jacket, throwing both on his pantry door hook, "Make yourself at home in my kitchen then, mon capitaine. Anything to drink?"

"Hmm, well, what do you have? If you don't mind my asking?" He asks, sitting down at the table. He looked a bit jittery, with the way his cheeks were still so bright, how his finger was gently stroking Gracie's socked foot.

"Water, juice, coffee, tea," Douglas counts, leaning on his breakfast bar as he watched Martin closely, ". . . I may still have a little wine if you're interested?"

"Wine?"

"Is that a yes?" Douglas grins as he begins looking through a cabinet for some sort of wine glass, Martin finally giving him a small smile.

"Well, no. But, but, yes? If it's not too much trouble. Just, with, well, you, you know. . .?" Douglas was honestly frightful of Martin's jacket sleeve falling off with how much he was picking at the thing.

"Know what?" Douglas knew, of course he did.

"Um, with, with your . . . _drinking_." He says the word as if it were a precious secret, his freckled cheeks positively a fire engine red at this point.

"I don't drink it," He says softly, pouring the white wine in a dalek mug that Hannah insisted on keeping there, not being able to find his wine glasses (had it been that long since he entertained?), "It's to offer to guests and I do cook with it."

He places the mug softly in front of Martin, a small 'thank you' falling from the captain's lips.

Douglas keeps a careful eye on Martin as he makes his way to the fridge, going in to pull out the ingredients for dinner,

"I was thinking of baked chicken with some mash and veg. Though if you're hungry right now, I could put together a crudite -" Martin suddenly stands, hands clenched at his sides;

"What do you want, Douglas?" 

The kitchen is deathly silent after Martin cuts him off, Douglas just staring at his captain, whom was looking at him with such a determined stare.

"Pardon?" He asks after the surprising interruption, looking at his captain with a bit of a cocked eyebrow.

"Well, I-I just," He sputters, his determined demeanor sinking as he goes back to pick at his jacket, "I'm baffled as to why you invited me over, and wondering when the ball will drop of what you want in exchange for dinner, and, and-"

"Martin, I don't want anything."

"What?" He says, immediately looking up from his nearly fraying sleeve.

"I just thought I'd invite you over for companionship, break bread, that sort of thing."

"But, but why?" He honestly looks positively flabbergasted at why he was over and about to have dinner.

"Isn't that what friends do? Have them over and so forth?"

". . . Friends?" Well, now Douglas was just getting plain annoyed.

"Yes! What else are we, other than colleagues of course?"

"I-I just. . . Friends?" 

". . . . . You honestly don't think of us as friends?" Douglas says softly, his annoyance fading extremely fast.

"You, you do tease me _all_ the time, and, and, I just. . . What else am I supposed to think?!"

"Well. . . This is unexpected." Douglas mutters after a long pause from the both of them, running a hand quickly through his hair.

"I'm sorry." Martin murmurs, his cheeks blushing extraordinarily pink, "Maybe, maybe we should forget about supper and, and-"

"No, no, perish the thought," Douglas stops him, "And don't apologize."

"Sorr-" Martin starts, Douglas giving him a look of 'you better not', Martin's mouth snapping shut right away.

"That's better. Martin, let me start off by saying. . . I'm sorry," He begins, his captain's eyes widening cartoonishly, he looking as if he were going to interrupt again, Douglas holding up his hands for him to stay quiet,

"Maybe my teasing gets a little out of hand sometimes," Douglas receives a withering stare of, 'you think?!' at his statement, "But I didn't think it was that bad, really and truly. And to be honest," He heaves a great sigh, not believing he was about to share this with Martin, "I only tease my closest friends,

"So, what do you say to that?"

A long lapse of time went by, Douglas standing by with bated breath as he waited for Martin's reaction.

"Um, well. . . Anything I can do? To, to help with supper?" 

Douglas lets out the breath he was holding, a grin spreading across his face as he goes back to his fridge, pulling out carrots and a courgette.

"Think you can manage some chopping?" Martin gives him a small smile, finally taking off his pilots jacket, soon placing it on the kitchen chair he had been occupying.

". . .What are friends for?" He grins himself, Douglas chuckling at his cheek, watching as Martin rolls up his sleeves to wash his hands.

Things went very smoothly after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not a terribly long chapter, but I thought I'd put this bit up anyway. :) As said, there will be another part to this sooner rather than later. 
> 
> Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed this chapter! If you'd like to see some more cabin pressure things, art and such *coughsomemoreMarlasshtuffscough*, then come by and say hullo at my tumblr: a-drab-lunacy.
> 
> ❤


End file.
